


Supped From Your Lips

by bookwormywriter



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Dark Spencer Reid, Dark Will Graham, Grooming, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, The Author Regrets Nothing, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormywriter/pseuds/bookwormywriter
Summary: The BAU team is called to a case and Will is hauled in to investigate.  Conversations are had, introductions are made, and Hannibal is very intrigued.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter/Spencer Reid
Comments: 10
Kudos: 176





	Supped From Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so I started writing this like three years ago and then got cold feet. I came back and reworked it a bit. This is the result. I make poke more at this universe.

_“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” - Carl Jung_

***

They were unwinding after a long but thankfully uneventful day. The kind of days that sometimes Reid craved because filing paperwork and filling out reports, as monotonous as they were, meant that he could turn his brain off. He could hear Morgan and Prentiss talking from their cubicles, making plans for the weekend. Prentiss was going to see a film, Derek was going dancing. 

“Hey, baby boy.” 

Reid looked up from his work, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He had a pen in his teeth but quirked his fingers in a way that let Morgan know he had heard him. Morgan smiled, easy and bright, leaning back in his chair and turning it more toward Reid as he curled his arms behind his head. 

“Want to come to the bar with me this weekend? Blues night.”

That actually was tempting. Morgan knew a lot of good spots for underground blues and jazz. Reid took the pen from his mouth. “I’ll let you know.”

Morgan gave him a weak fist pump and ‘my man’ before wheeling himself around. Reid watched him for a long moment before turning his attention back to his work. He was halfway through a new stack of intake forms when he saw Garcia rounding toward where Hotch’s office was. He turned to look at Morgan and Prentiss, who were already pushing themselves out of their chairs. 

He heard Hotch call them into the briefing room with a quick wave. Making his way over from his desk, he pulled out his usual spot after taking a file from Garcia. 

“Unfortunately we’re going to have to go into this case a few agents short since Rossi and JJ are still in Texas, so it’ll just be Prentiss, Reid, Morgan and I on this one. Fortunately, Jack Crawford has offered to lend us the hand of Will Graham and, with his approval, potentially Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Garcia?”

Garcia nodded her head and started, clicking the remote to activate the display. “Yesterday a hiker in Fairy Stone State Park came across a body. It was a woman, mid thirties, blonde, dressed, in a state of decomposition. They think maybe eight to ten days? Not sure. Then, here comes the icky part. After calling the local and state police, three other bodies were found in what the State Police Captain is calling a ‘trophy garden’, which is the worst kind of garden ever.”

Prentiss swiped through her tablet and then looked back at Garcia. “Were they all killed in the same way?”

Garcia nodded curtly. “Yeah, the ME thinks so. Something called a garrote?”

Reid pushed himself back and forth in his chair. “A garrote is a tool used for strangulation. Usually made of some kind of thin material like a fishing line or rope held between a set of handles or wrapped around the hands. The French Foreign Legion specifically uses a double loop method and then pulls it taut behind the victim so even if one line breaks the kill can still be executed. It’s a method of efficient, silent murder.”

Hotch’s face was grim as he flicked over the photos and through the preliminary reports. “The burial space seems to have been in use for at least a year. What’s estimated to be the first body has just hit the skeletal stage. Wheels up in forty. Garcia, get us everything you can.”

“Aye-aye _mon capitan_.”

***

They reached Stuart, Virginia in under two hours. It was damp with a drizzle in the mid October air by the time they hiked to the spot that the bodies had been found. Reid squinted through his sunglasses, shielding his face slightly at the sight of a man standing near the foot of the burial site. Off to his left, slightly behind him was another man, well dressed, in a peacoat over what seemed to be a suit. He turned when he heard the approach and bowed slightly toward the man, speaking softly to him. The man’s head dropped slightly before he raised his hand, pushing glasses up his nose as he turned to observe their approach. 

Reid smiled immediately at the sight of him. “Will!”

“Dr. Reid, nice to see you again.”

Prentiss came up behind him, skidding slightly on wet leaves and turned her attention between them. “You know him?” She was followed shortly after by Morgan.

“Will Graham teaches at the academy. I’ve attended a few of his lectures. He did one recently on family annihilators that was brilliant.”

Will’s smile was slightly askew and shy as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looked over his shoulder to the man who seemed to haunt beside him. “Uh, this is Hannibal -- Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He consults for Jack sometimes.”

Prentiss offered her hand with a shining smile. “SSA Emily Prentiss. This is Dr. Spencer Reid, SSA Derek Morgan and our Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner is back with the State Police.”

Hannibal offered them all a polite incline of the head and nodded to Reid who rose a hand in a wave. “A doctor? May I ask about your specialty?”

Reid cleared his throat. “Mathematics, Engineering and Chemistry.” He flicked his tongue out over his lips. “I read your paper, _Evolution Origins of Social Exclusion_ , it was absolutely fascinating. I actually have a few questions about it if you don’t --”

“ _Reid_ ,” Prentiss interrupted with a slight grin, “I’m sure that Dr. Lecter has better things to talk about at a crime scene.”

Reid opened his mouth before giving a slightly apologetic smile. Hannibal shook his head. “Nonsense. I would be greatly interested in hearing what you have to say. I always look forward to intelligent feedback. However, your colleague is correct. This isn’t quite the place.”

Prentiss turned her eyes back to Will as she made her way toward the burial. “Our tech analyst mentioned the most recent was a prostitute. It’s likely the others were as well. High risk victims, a place of exclusion. Likely a learning killer.”

Will gave a small nod of agreement. “He’s a new killer for sure. He’s already found something he likes, though. A method of killing. They’re all different in terms of appearance, though, so he doesn’t have a specific type.”

“That could change with time.” Prentiss crouched down pulling on some gloves. “He’ll be mad we found his hiding place.” 

Will scoffed, then nodded his head. “Oh yeah. I don’t think he’s a local, though. The girl who we managed to identify is from Fairfax. This is likely a dump site.” He ran a hand over his face. “We’ve got them going back to Quantico to do a full analysis.” 

Hotch approached, talking low to Morgan and Prentiss a moment before tossing a glance toward Reid, Will and Lecter. “Would you mind accompanying them when they do the post mortem, Reid?” 

Reid blinked and looked over at Hotch before nodding his head. “Yeah, of course. What did the State Police say?”

“Not much. Unfortunately, since we’ve found his burial ground he’ll find somewhere else to hide them. Nothing left to do until another body drops.”

***

“Reid.”

“Hello Dr. Reid, this is Dr. Lecter. I hope you don’t mind me calling, I spoke to your supervisor to get your phone number.”

Reid sat up slightly, closing the book in his lap. “Not at all. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Actually I was calling to see if you wished to further discuss what we attempted at the crime scene the other day. Will will be there as well. Dinner at my house?”

Reid’s mouth fell open. He knew of the fanciful dinner parties that Dr. Lecter sometimes held. “I-I don’t think I have anything quite elaborate enough to wear to your table.”

Hannibal laughed softly. “Nonsense. I’ve had Will at my table. I’m certain your attire won’t offend me. Are you available for dinner tonight? Around eight?”

Reid stole a glance at his watch. “Barring another body or something else, absolutely.”

“Wonderful. I live at Five Chandler Square. I look forward to seeing you.”

***

As he sat in the driveway of Hannibal Lecter’s home, staring up at the wondrous expanse of it, Reid suddenly felt very grateful he’d traded in his Amazon for an Audi. Looking over at the box from the bakery on his other seat before sighing and picking it up as he climbed out of the car. 

Making his way to the door, he pressed the doorbell and waited before it opened to reveal the smiling face of Hannibal Lecter. “Dr. Reid.” His eyes flickered to the box in Reid’s hand and his smile widened. “You brought us dessert, how thoughtful.” 

“Pear and cinnamon tarte, I hope it will compliment dinner.” 

“Wonderfully. Please, come inside.”

Stepping inside, Reid felt transported into another world. It was decadent but rather dimly lit, insinuating a rather cozy atmosphere. Warm without being overbearing. At Hannibal’s insistence he shed his coat and shoes before pausing as he straightened, flushing slightly at the look he caught Hannibal giving his mismatched socks.

“I’ve done it ever since I was a kid.”

Hannibal tilted his head ever so slightly. His eyes ran over Reid’s face and in the light Reid could swear there was red in the brown of his eyes. “Far be it from me to stop tradition.”

He was ushered deeper into the house and admiring the living wall of herbs lining behind the dining room table before stopping short. “Is that Leda and the Swan?”

“Indeed. I find it makes an excellent conversation piece. And high society rather enjoys a bit of titillation.” Hannibal answered with a smile. 

Reid opened his mouth to say something but his words were cut off at the sound of nails on the wood of Hannibal’s floor and he found himself looking at a golden retriever that watched him with a soft expression and gave a lazy tail wag. He blinked at it several times, rather owlishly, then looked to Hannibal as if for explanation.

“This is Winston, Will’s dog. His other, Buster, is out in the yard. Will’s in the kitchen, let us join him.”

Together they made their way to the open kitchen where Will was reclining against the island, sipping from a glass of red wine. He offered Reid a nod of the head in greeting, one Reid returned. 

Hannibal placed the dessert in his fridge and poured Reid a glass of wine, which Reid aerated with a gentle swirl of the stem before taking a slow sip. His eyes fluttered closed behind his glasses at the taste of the wine and he made a soft noise of appreciation. When he reopened his eyes, Hannibal had knotted an apron around his waist and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and was stirring the contents of a dutch oven on the stove. 

“I’m fascinated by your name. It’s rather uncommon for a modern name. Is it familial?”

Hannibal turned slightly and nodded his head. “I’m the eighth of my family. Perhaps, unfortunately, the last.” 

Reid nodded his head in understanding before turning his attention toward Will. “I heard about the Shrike case. We all did. Anthropophagy. Cannibals are rather fascinating. He’d been going for a manner similar to Dahmer, hadn’t he? To keep them with him?”

Will grimaced slightly and nodded his head. “Yeah. I’m still trying to shake Hobbs completely out of my head. Thought we’d managed to save the daughter but she didn’t wake from her coma. She was unplugged last week.”

Reid hissed through his teeth. “I’m sorry to hear that. Combined with everything, I’m sure that you’re glad to mostly be back in the classroom.”

At that Will made an agreeing noise. “Jack likes my party trick but he doesn’t know how much it takes out of me. Combined with the encephalitis I just kicked out of me, I thought I was going crazy.”

Hannibal moved to the island they congregated around and took a sip from his own wine. “Now with the return of the Chesapeake Ripper, sadly, Will’s in high gear. Occupied fully with that and your new case.” 

Reid nodded slightly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Nothing we can do but work other cases until something new pops up, unfortunately. Still, it gave me the opportunity to meet you, so I’m pleased about that.”

“You were fascinating to observe at the examiner’s office. I think we might become friendly.”

Reid’s brow rose slightly and he grinned a little. “I’d like that.”

Will craned his neck slightly to look at Hannibal and then leaned toward Reid, voice lowered to a stage whisper. “I think that’s why Hannibal went rustic tonight for dinner; we’re even eating in here instead of with an opulent dinner piece and a million courses.”

Reid sputtered and then laughed when Hannibal turned to look at Will who just shot him a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. Reid looked between the two of them, watching, before smiling softly as he took a sip of his wine. “How long have the two of you been living together?” Will’s head snapped to look at him and Hannibal’s brows shot up. Reid felt a slight stab of panic. “I -- Sorry -- I just -- I…”

Hannibal gave a small shake of the head and tipped his glass of wine toward Reid slightly. “You’re very good at your job, Spencer - may I call you Spencer?”

Reid swallowed reflexively but nodded his head, offering a shaky smile. “Not many people do, but feel free.”

“And about five weeks. I needed to ensure I wasn’t violating anything with my practice, but Will has found alternatives to therapy.”

Will nodded his head and took a few sips of his wine. “It was after an incident with the guy who had killed the musician from the Symphony, made him into an instrument?”

Reid nodded his recollection. “I remember the news reports. You sure do get some strange ones.” 

Will snorted. “Don’t we all?”

Reid made a soft noise of agreement as he finished his glass of wine and then looked at Hannibal. “Dinner smells good.”

“Take a seat, the rice has finished proofing, so it’s time.” He refilled their glasses before moving to serve up three plates. “It’s Ropa Vieja, I’ve removed the olives from the recipe, however, and substituted capers, served with yellow rice and beans. Alongside it, rosemary and garlic peasant bread.”

Reid looked down at the plate, at the simple stew like dish, and let out a breath. It smelled fantastic. He waited for Hannibal to sit and motioned for him to try before taking a mouthful. He was taken aback at the flavour, the beef was tender, almost melt in the mouth. He broke into a wide smile, which Hannibal returned, and then dug in happily.

***

It was late when they walked Winston and Buster through Leakin Park, well past midnight, but Will had been having a bad night for dreams. Hobbs still wouldn’t get out of his head, and Hannibal had suggested a hunt to keep them calm, but Will had said it wasn’t the kind of tension. Instead they opted for a late night walk. 

“So, what do you think of Dr. Reid?”

“I like him. He reminds me of you in ways. He’s younger, obviously, has different interests, but I think he could be honed.”

Will hummed, mouth pressed into a line. On the six hour car ride back from Fairy Stone he’d talked to Hannibal about how Reid had the same sort of shadows in his eyes they both did. He mentioned that Reid had killed his first UNSUB when he was twenty three and a fierce, hot pride had flared in Hannibal. Reid was only twenty eight, but he had a mean streak in him and several downed UNSUBS.

Hannibal was thinking he could be a new toy to play with. 

“He’s interested in cannibalism, too. You heard him at dinner the other night.”

“I did, and he liked my cooking.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Name me a person who doesn’t like your cooking?”

Hannibal inclined his head slightly in a slight conceit before his head turned slightly at a sound off in the distance of the forest path they were trekking through. Movement. It was well known that Leakin Park was a dumping ground for bodies. He looked to Will, who nodded, and they secured Buster and Winston by their leashes to a tree and moved off toward the sound. 

They made their way through the brush as quietly as possible without light to keep from spooking whoever was hiding the body. After a short distance of walking they found a spot where a few trees were spaced more apart and there was a slight patch of light ahead. Moving as though it were bobbing up and down.

Hannibal crouched, making sure they were distanced but still had sight. The hole that was being dug wasn’t wide, but he had a feeling that it was meant to be deep. In the faint light he could see the outline of a body, a woman who was naked and bisected, lying beside the growing pile of debris being dug out of the hole. Which, at current, considering he could just see the top of the digger’s head, was probably at least five feet deep. 

After a while, the digging ceased and the shovel came tossed out of the hole. Two hands braced themselves on the edge and the occupant clambered out. A wash of light from a clip on flashlight swung over the area. The killer grabbed hold of a large plastic bag and tossed it into the hole, then they grabbed the woman’s arms and dragged her, Hannibal watched as she moved, leaving no trail behind her. She was hollowed out. The contents of the bag likely the organs. Buried the deepest to prevent smell. She went in headfirst. Then her legs went in. 

The killer then started reburying the body. Once it was done, dirt and leaves were scattered around and a large, fallen branch tossed down to make the ground look undisturbed. 

Hannibal stood as the killer crouched down, pulling on a backpack and folding up the collapsible shovel. 

“Oftentimes the bodies dumped in the park are left out to the elements.”

The killer whirled, collapsible shovel snapping to full extent for a strike. Hannibal smiled at the smudged face illuminated by the flashlight. 

“Hello Dr. Reid.”

***

They hadn’t spoken the entire drive back to Hannibal’s house. Reid quietly asked for a shower when he stepped through the door and Hannibal escorted him to the guest bathroom. After a moment he returned with soft silken pajamas and a fresh towel.

While they waited, Hannibal started coffee, and Will watched him. “You lost the bet.”

Hannibal rose his gaze over the coffee machine and quirked a smile in his direction. “I did indeed. Macaroni and cheese for dinner whenever you wish it.” He pulled out three mugs and set them down. “187 IQ, can read twenty thousand words per minute, and is quickly evolving his killing method.”

“You sound proud.” Reid’s voice came as a rasp from the doorway. He accepted the coffee and added two large spoons of sugar before stirring it. “I was thinking in the shower. You’re the Chesapeake Ripper, aren’t you?”

Hannibal gave a curt nod. He set a coffee in front of Will before taking a sip from his own mug. 

Reid’s eyes scanned his face for a long moment, then he took a slow sip of his coffee. “You fed me human meat, didn’t you?” Again, there was a curt nod. Reid hummed, then took another sip of coffee. He licked his lips. “How long have you been killing?”

“I killed the first man when I was nineteen, but the first killing I hunted I was twenty three.”

Reid’s mouth quirked into a smile and then slipped toward Will. “The latest Ripper kill, it was different. Not to the passing eye. Missing organs, mutilation, artistic posing, but… It was you, wasn’t it?”

Will shifted, pressed a hand into his pocket and curled the other around the handle of his mug as he took a sip of his coffee. He finally nodded his head, eyes flicking to Reid’s, smiling around the rim of his mug at the unflinching stare he got back. “Hannibal’s a good teacher.”

Reid’s eyes flicked toward Hannibal. “I’m a good student.”

***

Hannibal’s office was similar to his house in many ways: lush, warm, and dim. Filled with natural light but accented with lamps that dotted the edges of the room and the desk, glowing faintly in the post-daylight hours. It wrapped around Reid when he stepped through the door. It was dreamy. Almost womb-like in its embrace of him. He watched Hannibal sit down, legs crossed, and study him. He placed his hands in his pockets and strolled the outside edge of the office. He studied the art. He pursed his lips as he skimmed his eyes over the books. 

He made his way over to the chair across from where Hannibal was sitting. Studied him up and down. “Do you have anything to drink?”

Hannibal nodded, unfolded himself from the chair. “Of course. Wine?”

“I’d prefer cognac or armagnac if you have it. If not, a red is fine.” 

Hannibal paused by the cabinet he kept his drinks stored in and turned to regard Reid over his shoulder. “Curiouser still, Spencer.”

Reid offered a crooked grin as he pushed up his glasses with the back of his hand. Watching as Hannibal unstoppered a bottle and poured two snifters of the drink before moving to cross the gap between them. Taking the snifter, Reid cradled it between his ring and middle finger, cupping the bottom to let the drink warm slightly as he swirled it and then took a slow sip. 

“A Camus XO.”

Reid hummed appreciatively and then eased himself into the chair as Hannibal sat. He ran his eyes over Hannibal’s face, enjoying another slow sip from the glass. “I was born in Vegas, I suppose some of the opulence wore off on me.”

“Can you still enter the casinos?”

Reid laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Some. Cards and I are a couple that treat each other right. It’s how I manage --” He cut himself off and turned his eyes downward, momentarily. “My mother has schizophrenia.”

“And you worry about the genetics. Still, almost thirty and no signs of a break favours you. Still, her care is expensive, hence the cards.”

Reid snorted. He knew the statistics. “Among other things. I always knew I was different. Aside from the intellect and the instability. I always knew there was a darkness inside of me.”

“What blossomed it out?”

Reid pressed his lips together and took a sip of his cognac. He set back in the chair. “I was kidnapped. Tortured. Drugged.”

“And this assailant, did you kill him?”

Reid nodded. “He was suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

“What did he drug you with?”

“Dilaudid.” He offered a wry twist of the lips in Hannibal’s direction. “Took me a while to shake it.”

“Understandable. You saw darkness. It looked back at you. Is that why you kill?”

A low noise, not of affirmation or denial, came out of Reid. He adjusted his position in the chair. Eyes flicking over to Hannibal. “Why do you kill?”

“Power. Hunger.” 

“Betterment.”

Hannibal nodded once, curtly. “Indeed.”

Reid shifted again, restlessly, and swallowed the last of the cognac before setting the snifter aside and bowed forward, pulling his legs up to cross on the chair after hurriedly slipping from his shoes.

“It distresses you. Trying to think of the reason.”

A bark of a laugh left Reid’s mouth and he met Hannibal’s gaze briefly. “I worry you’ll think it’s foolish.”

Hannibal adjusted his position in his own chair, knitting his fingers together to rest on his knee. “Your reason is your reason, not mine. People have done this for many reasons. Is it sex? Arousal?”

Reid looked taken aback, blinking and then shook his head. “No. Nothing so crude.” He sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering behind his glasses. “They’re just so beautiful.” He finally breathed out, two fingers coming up to rub at his mouth. Voice soft and shy. He averted his eyes, closing them as a flush rose up on his cheeks. “I see so much ugliness. People taking apart and hurting and ruining so many of the world’s beautiful things. I want to show people, I want to see for myself, the beauty they hold.”

Hannibal smiled, warm and soft, at the sight of Reid, curled into himself, flushed and lost in his own mind. Fingers absently caressing his mouth and his cheeks. When he spoke, his voice was low. “‘The death, then, of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world’.”

Reid’s eyes fluttered open and he looked toward Hannibal, eyes slightly glazed, flush still high in his cheeks. He let out a sigh and nodded, tension evaporating from his body. “Poe. In his _Philosophy of Composition._ ”

“There are many who find beauty in death. Who see grief and mourning and the abandon found within it as a work of something to be admired.” Hannibal stood, then knelt in front of Reid, hands pressing against his thighs, delighting in the hitch of breath. “Allow me to help you broaden your palate.”

Reid nodded, the action almost unconscious, and curled his fingers against his palm and cheek. “ _Yes_.”

***

Will hadn’t been lying when he said that Hannibal was a good teacher, but he expected hard work in return. He disliked having to repeat himself, or his lessons. Still, he was patient and calm in his guidance. He had warm hands and steady fingers; the perfect qualifications for a surgeon, or a butcher, or a man who was both.

They spoke, they planned, they practiced. Reid absorbed the lessons taught both by Hannibal and Will, who was himself different and yet so alike his lover it was uncanny, in easy stride. His adoration of the dying face of a beautiful woman, and later, newer, a beautiful man, swelled. 

He found himself oftentimes simply staring, engrossed in the porcelain faces, the stark blue veins, the greying lips. He understood with a fierceness the obsession with death masks. There was a grotesque ugliness to death as well, but those he took and often times one's Will and Hannibal did - before they were transformed - were serene. Enigmatic. 

He watched as Hannibal removed the liver from his latest hunt, eyes flickering down to the fleshy, healthy brown-pink of the organ, before looking back up toward the young man’s face. “Did you know that the often quoted ‘most kissed face’ in the world is a death mask? An unidentified woman who drowned in the Seine. Her face was casted in hopes of finding out who she was. The peaceful look on her face and soft curl of her mouth was touted to be an example of beauty similar to the Mona Lisa’s.”

Hannibal examined the man’s kidneys a moment before glancing toward Reid’s face. “How is she the most kissed?”

“Her face became the model for the first female CPR dummies.” Reid murmured, reaching down with his nitrile gloved hand to tuck a lock of stray hair behind the man’s ear. He rubbed at the shell of his ear absently before drawing his hand away. “How did this man earn your wrath?”

Hannibal clucked his tongue and his mouth twisted in a faint smile. “He caught your eye when we were at the theater. I wanted to gift you with something beautiful. As far as I’m aware, he was as innocent as a lamb.”

Reid’s face softened from the tightness that had built around his eyes and he allowed himself a final pet of the man’s gently curled hair. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Have you decided on the offer that Will and I made?”

A soft noise of agreement left Reid and he looked up, eyes bright and focused. “I want to. I just need to think of something appropriate.”

“Take your time, it will be fun to let Jack simmer a bit longer. Now, help me move him so we can break him down for burial.”


End file.
